


Mentis Ales Maritus Cordisque

by dazebras



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Campbell's Hero's Journey, Classical References, F/M, Forced Marriage, Grisha theory, Human/Monster Romance, Jealousy, Journey to the Underworld, Minor Character Death, Too-Clever Fox, Volcra!Nikolai, implied Darkling/Genya Safin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-04 16:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14597238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazebras/pseuds/dazebras
Summary: In order to save her village from plunder by a mysterious and terrible winged beast, Alina Starkov is given in marriage to the very beast that plagues her people.  She agrees to meet her certain death for the chance to strike at the creature in close quarters, but she quickly finds him not to be as she assumed.A Cupid & Psyche re-telling, dedicated to everyone who was disappointed Eros wasn't a monster after all.





	1. Rapitur

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a chiasmus which roughly translates to "Monster of the Mind, Mate of the Heart."

There was a girl. Her name was Alina. She was of uncommon beauty, like her two older sisters, Zoya and Marie. Though fair of face, it was her cascade of snowy white hair that lent her an ethereal glow that drew the eyes of men and women as a compass needle draws north. The people of the town took her lovely appearance to be a sign from the gods and began to worship her as a living saint. Soon, word spread beyond their small village, and pilgrims came from all ends of the country to catch a glimpse of her blessed face, a fact which caused her haughty sisters no small amount of jealousy.

There was a monster. It’s name was Volcra. It had plagued the townsfolk for nearing a year, snatching away their livestock in the night, despite their talismans and guard dogs. Those few who had caught sight of the dreaded creature said that it had large featherless wings and fangs and claws to rival any lion. Though the village’s hunters had scoured the lands and set many cunning traps, none could discover the creature’s lair.

It fell to Alina’s guardian, the wise woman Ana Kuya, to determine how to destroy the monster. For three days and three nights, the wise woman sealed herself away in the dark. For like calls to like, and the secrets of the night are best discovered in the dark. When she emerged on the third day, shielding her eyes against the blinding rays of the morning sun which seemed to reflect a halo off of Alina’s luminous hair, she told her daughters that Alina must be bound in marriage to the beast. This, said she, was the only way to assuage the monster's hunger.

“What sad misfortune that Alina will not be happily married to a handsome husband as we are,” her sisters cried; though, their wicked hearts rejoiced at the news.

But Alina was as brave as she was beautiful, and she knew that if she could get close enough to the monster, she could kill it. And so she slipped a little knife between the folds of the dresses packed away for her new life that she might not be defenseless.

As the viper’s fangs strike abruptly into the defenseless mouse, so did the appointed day arrive. Alina allowed her sisters to dress her in a beautiful golden veil and tie ribbons in her hair. Her mother and her sisters and indeed all the townsfolk and pilgrims marched poor Alina to the top of the craggy hill overlooking the village to await her husband-to-be. Had she been alone, Alina would surely have wept to be journeying toward what was surely her execution rather than blissful nuptials. Yet Alina would not let these people who relied on her to see any crack of weakness. Thusly, the crowd kept vigil over her until dusk and then went away into their homes.

Even in the moonless dark, Alina did not allow herself a moment of fear.

_Like calls to like_ , she reminded herself, _but our Thisness exists only as a reflection of another’s Thatness. I will tame this creature until it is a being of Light, or I will slay it._

The sacrificial lamb did not see what scooped her into the sky then. Massive talons wrapped around her upper arms, rending her gown as easily as they would have parted water. From the beat of the creature’s horrible wings, she knew the ground must be far below her. The wind whipped her bridal veil about her face, obscuring what little she might have seen in the dark.

_It will be my funeral shroud when I fall_ , she thought.

And fall she did. It was only a few feet, but the impact stung her wrists and knees. The great beast circled above her, the shadow of its wings against the starlight wider than a man was tall. Alina sent a harried glance around her, but there was nowhere to flee. Behind her was the entrance to a large cave she took to be the monster’s lair, and before her and to all sides was the edge of a sheer cliff.

The creature landed heavily before her. It released a terrible cry, and she felt each one of the hairs on the back of her neck raise a flag of primal warning. Now, Alina began to feel afraid.

Her hand strayed to her haversack where she knew her secret blade lay swaddled. She could not dig it out without the sudden movement inciting the beast’s aggression. Instead, Alina said thus:

“I beg of you do not harm me. I am one who has come to be your bride. Like the subtle fox who persuaded the great bear to break his chains and carry him away across the river, so you have escaped every trap our hunters have lain for you. The wise people of the village decided it was right to reward your cleverness with someone to be a companion in all things so that you might not be alone. Never before have you harmed a human, only snatched away our livestock and beasts of burden. Do not start now with the one who will tie her life to yours.”

So Alina pleaded, and as she spoke, the creature seemed to listen. When she had finished, it released another shriek and lept into the sky. When the monster was gone, Alina clutched the ruined fabric of her dress around her and wept.


	2. Mutat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alina explores her new home, receives a surprise visit from her sisters, and meets her husband properly. Spoilers for the "Too-Clever Fox" short story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to sosobriquet and dwarrowkings for beta reading this chapter.

Rosy-fingered dawn stretched across the sky. Alina had not moved from the place where the monster had dropped, not wanting to lose her footing in the darkness and tumble over the edge of the cliff. Peering over the lip now, she saw that it was too far to safely climb down. If her muscles were not weak from the years Ana Kuya had kept her inside away from suitors, Alina might have attempted it, but as it was, she would not make it twenty feet before plummeting to a grisly end.

 _There is only forward,_ Alina said to strengthen herself.

The lair entrance, she found, was littered with bones. The hip of a cow, a cat skull, a goat hoof--all of them picked clean.

 _I compared him to the Too-Clever Fox last night_ , thought Alina, _yet it is I who has just talked my way into the hands of a keen hunter._

She took a step forward. Then another and another, and the smaller bones splintered beneath her dainty slippers.

 _No,_ she decided. _I must steel myself against despair. I will be Sofiya Jurek, and when the Volcra does not expect it, I will split his belly--just like the fox._

And so, into the cave Alina went.

At the back of the cave was a pool fed by a tiny but steady trickle of water. It was cool, and though surrounded by yet more of the monster’s latest meals, it tasted clean. From this angle, Alina could see what had been hidden before by shadow--two doors set flush with the stone wall, one on each side of the passage.

The first opened invitingly beneath the barest press of her fingers. Inside was a bedroom adorned in such luxury that Alina’s breath caught. There were twin wardrobes of a richly colored wood, the fronts inlaid with gold in twisting, fanciful designs. A desk and vanity--its mirror of the clearest glass she had ever seen--completed the set. At the center of it all was a massive bed. Its four posts were wrought with gold, and the curtains, pulled back to reveal linens of the softest cotton and what seemed to be a thousand downy pillows, were of a heavy brocade done a soft blue picked again with gold. All this was covered with a thick layer of dust which danced in the play of sunlight streaming from the high, glassless windows.

 _What manner of beast has a bedroom fit for a lord?_ Alina wondered.

Search as she might, she could find no answers. The desk yielded nothing but blank parchment and dried ink and the wardrobes nothing but fresh bedding. On the other side of the macabre foyer, Alina found a well-appointed sitting room and small kitchen furnished much in the same way as the bedroom. On one wall hung a finely woven tapestry illustrating the story of the King and Queen of the Underworld.

The Queen of the Underworld was once the most beautiful being on the mortal plane; though, goddess she was without a doubt. A human king, driven by lust and avarice-for she had power over growing things and could make a harvest bloom in half the time--sought to bind her with with strong and ancient magicks.

The young goddess suffered under the cruel king’s hand, never knowing a moment of peace, save for what time she could steal in the garden. It was there that the Lord of Dark and Death spotted her from his chariot drawn skyborn by flying creatures that were neither wholly man nor bat. Like a sharp-taloned hawk snatching an unsuspecting rabbit from the brush, so did the King of the Underworld’s shadows spirit away the young goddess to his domain.

Fearing he would bind her and mistreat her as her mortal captor had, the goddess eschewed the Death King’s presence. He left her alone with nothing more than a single pomegranate--the only fruit, as you know well, that can grow in the Underworld--and a promise of power equal to his own in exchange for her hand.

For a week the young goddess wept, and in that time, she did not eat, for the immortal need only ambrosia and nectar sparingly to survive. Everyday, the god of Death visited her, and everyday he renewed his offer. When finally the goddess’s eyes dried, she could see that he was lonely. After all, what love do gods and mortals have for Death? And so she ate the fruit of the Underworld and bound herself willingly to the Dark. In the tapestry, her lips were stitched into a smile of ruby red the same color of the fruit she held.

Despite the numerous shelves of books and scrolls in all manner of languages lining the polished walls of the sitting room, still Alina could not discover any clues about her surroundings or the creature that had brought her here.

With no more pressing matters, Alina set to work making the place livable. She swept the bones over the cliffside, aired the linens, and wiped the dust away with rags torn from her golden dress. She owned nothing else so fine but also nothing else so full of holes. She organized the small amount of plain rice and beans she located in the cupboards and rinsed all the dishes in the cavern pool.

Lastly, she tucked her precious knife between the pillows on the bed.

With nothing left to distract her and dark swiftly approaching, moon-haired Alina sat against the headboard to wait for her husband to return.

And wait she did.

The second day, Alina woke alone, slumped in an ungraceful heap against the headboard. Her room was undisturbed--if the Volcra had visited her while she slept, it had left no trace. However, when she left her room to fix herself a meager breakfast, she found the parlor filled with food: baskets of fresh bread, still soft to the touch; dried fruits and salted meat; gorgeous, colorful fruits of varieties she couldn’t name. She’d had more than most at Ana Kuya’s house, but even with the anonymous tithes left by misguided penitents, she’d never been able to afford such a bounty. She gorged herself that morning on sweet rolls and boiled eggs. With her worry over her food supplies assuaged for the present, Alina spent her second day in the cliffside lair much the same as the first.

The third morning, Alina found her captor had again left gifts for her as she slept. Draped with care across the couches and tables in the sitting room were numerous dresses, each more fine than the last. Most were done in blue, ranging from the sky color of her bedding to a particular navy and lace piece she found to be scandalously low cut.

 _I would almost say he has good taste,_ she mused, _but it seems the Volcra is more of a man than I thought._

The fourth morning, Alina woke with no small amount of excitement. For it was clear that these were courting gifts, and she was curious as to what her suitor would leave her next. This time, chests of all sizes filled the second room. She opened a smaller one, revealing a collection of gold necklaces bejewelled with rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and other precious gems. The next contained more rings than she had fingers, all worked from twisting silver-- some in spirals, others worked to look like leaves, still others in a wave pattern as she imagined the True Sea might look. From the next, she slipped bangles onto her wrists, each studded with flashing opals the color of her hair.

That night, Alina decided she had had enough of waiting. It was time to either make the Volcra her true husband if her were tame as she was growing to suspect or to slay him if he were not. Already, he had proven that he wouldn’t disturb her bed chamber, so she sat in the parlor in hopes that she would catch him leaving his latest offering. At dusk, she didn’t bother to light the lamp, knowing that the light may very well scare the creature off.

At the witching hour, Alina heard the loud _thump_ of something landing on the ledge out front. She forced herself to stay on the couch and to neither run to see whether the racket was indeed caused by the monster or another chest landing nor to flee back to the relative safety of her bed.

 _Waiting longer will not make me more brave_.

The door swung open soundlessly, and outlined in the gloom she could see the beast’s tall form made even bulkier by the child-sized crate he carried. He paused there, clearly surprised to see her waiting for him. She rose to meet him with cautious steps.

As when the autumn winds stir the brittle leaves to rasp and rattle against each other, so did Alina’s voice shake: “Husband. It is time for you to make me a proper wife.”

At her urging, the creature set aside his burden and followed her into the second room. She slipped her dressing gown from her shoulders and turned away so that she wouldn’t have to watch him appraise her nakedness with his luminescent eyes. She turned down the sheets and lay in the middle of the mattress.

When the creature crawled on top of her, his outstretched wings filling the entirety of her vision, Alina slipped her hand under her pillow to curl her fist around the handle of her dagger, ready to strike at the first sign of violence. His breath--a puff of air so cool against her cheek that it might have been a draft of night air from the window but for his snout pressed to her temple--smelled of sulphur, of gunpowder, of stone, of the places deep beneath the earth where the air is dank and dead. But his tongue was gentle on her neck and her breasts and then on the warm core of her. And though his claws pricked the skin of her hips when he entered her, they did not pierce her flesh. And Alina let go of the knife so that she might draw him closer and feel him tremble against her. When he held her, after, wrapped tight against his chest, hi body felt more like a man’s than a monster’s.

He was gone when she awoke. Alina was more surprised at her disappointment than at his absence. His last gift, still packed away in its straw-lined crate, was a set of water paints along with brushes and heavy paper. The creature couldn’t have known that this had been one of her favorite hobbies during her encloisterment at home, but the gift struck her as thoughtful nonetheless. After all, what was she to do with flashy gowns and heaps of jewelry closed up in a cliffside lair?

That evening, Alina painted the sunset, the colors under her brush matching the ones reflected in her hair. Though the sun had slipped beneath the horizon, Alina waited there in the chair she had drug out to the ledge for the Volcra to arrive. When he landed, a bouquet of fragrant flowers in his taloned grasp, she smiled at him, knowing he could see it even in the dark.

She forced herself to stay awake so that she might ask him why he had brought her here and why he had snatched away the village’s livestock if he was able to gather such human comforts with ease. Yet the beast did not answer her questions, only petted her hair until she fell asleep.

* * *

 

Not long after, Alina’s sisters--Marie and Zoya--came to visit her. The had been walking the road between villages and chanced to spot her colorful dress against the gray rock where she sat to paint the landscape. All three girls were surprised at the meeting, Alina’s sisters most of all. Longing desperately for company and news from home, Alina suggested they circle around the ridge and descend the much smaller distance from the top of the cliff rather than making the long climb to the landing. To pay for horses so that the sisters might make it there before nightfall, Alina dropped several golden pins plucked from her snowy hair that they might barter with them. The sisters marveled at the wealth of these adornments, which would surely buy them more than two horses and climbing equipment, and grew eager to see what else Alina was hiding from them.

The sisters made haste, and soon they had climbed down to Alina’s embrace. She led them into the parlor where she had laid out tea and sandwiches and cheeses and other finger foods of the kind which delicate ladies enjoy eating. While they ate, Alina prodded them for the story of how they had come to find her.

“It was quite an accident that we saw you,” Zoya answered. “We were journeying to the next town to purchase new dress fabric where the prices are cheaper. For since you left, the pilgrims have all gone away and no longer leave gifts of money and food and other things. Moreover, we had all believed you were dead.”

Marie asked, “Tell us, little Alina, how you came to be mistress of this domain which glitters gold from every angle and how you escaped the gnashing teeth of the winged beast that snatched you away.”

At length Alina told them all she knew of the monster and his courting gifts. When Alina had finished, Marie and Zoya looked to each other, each seeing her own wickedness glowing in her sister’s eyes. For, though both were married to handsome and loving men and by rights should have been happy, they coveted Alina’s material wealth and resented her for having a husband richer than her own. And so they whispered doubt into her mind:

“You did not truly tame the monster. It still poaches livestock from our village--from all the villages in the valley. Do you think it buys this food for you like a human? It has stolen everything it has given you. It will eat you one night after it has lain with you. It waits only until you have birthed it an abomination first. You will bore it, and it will carry away another innocent girl when it is done with you.”

The fear the sisters sowed took root in Alina’s heart. She resolved that night to slay the beast as he slept.

The cold-hearted sisters left happy with their plan’s success and with the basket laden with jewels Alina had gifted them. Greed clouded their wisdom, and the sisters draped themselves in riches so that they might attract the envy of all they met, heedless of the bandits that plagued the road into their village. And that, as they say, is that.

Alina waited until the monster dozed beside her, spent from their earlier tumble. She rose silently and dug the knife from where she had buried it at the bottom of her wardrobe after the first night the creature had taken her to bed; she had never thought she’d need it. She would not be able to overpower him if she could not kill him in a single stroke, so she lit an oil lamp to guide her way.

Closer she drew, aware between one breath and the next that she had never looked upon her beast in full light.

His body was concealed to the waist by the sheets, but above it his torso was covered in inky tendrils that snaked like evil roots beneath his alabaster skin. Black-tipped claws bled their color up his fingers, marring his entire hand. From his back stretched horrible wings of skin that was nauseatingly human but for more of those same black veins.

 _When I cut him, will he bleed black?_ she thought hysterically.

She raised the lamp higher so that she might see his face as well. Hair the color of spun gold curled softly around his ears. What she had feared in the dark to be a snout was nothing more that a straight aquiline nose leading to a proud, expressive brow. The black tendrils curled past the very edge of his strong jaw. Save for that and the overly sharp teeth that glinted from his sleep-slack mouth, his face was that of a simple--if very attractive--man.

Alina’s heart was moved by the sight of his beauty imprisoned in the trappings of a beast. One could not be half a man in body without at least half a man’s heart.

“Oh, my poor husband,” she whispered, overwhelmed by the memory of his gentleness.

Whether it was her piteous cry or the light upon his face, the creature stirred suddenly. His eyes snapped open, revealing irises of bottle-glass blue, and his gaze went unerringly to the knife Alina held above him. He flinched, and movement startled the her. The girl dropped the lamp.

Hot oil splashed across the creature’s leg. Red welts raised immediately, even as he shrieked in pain. As he scrambled from the bed, the sheets caught fire. Panic-stricken Alina was unable to stop the Volcra from fleeing into the night as she struggled to put out the flames. She was left alone with a blackened scorch mark in the center of her bed where there had once been the beginnings of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story relies on the classical understanding of marriage, meaning -- in short -- sex is considered a substitute for a public marriage ceremony. Truthfully, a ancient audience would have considered them married from the moment Nikolai carried Alina off. If you want a more in depth discussion on ancient & classical understandings of marriage and the word "rapio" specifically, you can hmu on tumblr.


	3. Quaerit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alina searches for lost love and meets some trials along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose the chapter title as much for its basic definition of "to seek out" as for its dual meaning of "to earn".

The journey through the forest was hard. Alina kept off the road as best she could, knowing both the trouble that could find a woman alone and the unlikelihood that the Volcra had gone to ground anywhere too near to civilization. Still, she had no idea where he might have flown off to and neither did anyone she asked in the nearby villages. Though the creature had plagued the farmers for months, he seemed to have disappeared into thin air the night she accidentally burned him.

Bright-eyed Alina did not stop searching. She investigated every mountain crag, every cave for her creature’s bolt hole with only her unfaithful knife and a new rifle to protect herself. Yet, it was to no avail.

Finally, she circled back to the forest near her home village. There lived a hunter known to be the best tracker in the valley. Alina had staked her last hopes on his help.

The tracker welcomed her in and set before her a simple but hearty meal of rabbit stew and coarse bread. Yet his pleasant demeanor changed when she revealed why she had come. He had not been able to root the beast out in the entire year before, which stung his pride; though, that was before Alina’s new information. He became even more agitated when she explained that her concern was for the Volcra’s health not for a job left unfinished.

Alina tried to reason with him: “He is my husband and gentle besides,” but the tracker would have none of her arguments.

“No one would consider that thing you true husband. Even if the monster has defiled you, there are still men--real, human men--who would marry you. I certainly would after I first kill the beast.”

Not at any point during her time with the Volcra had Alina felt defiled. She said as much, and watched the look of disgust slide across the tracker’s face.

“The filthy thing has clearly enchanted you. It is good that I am the first to hear it, since I’d like to save you from its spell.” His handsome brow darkened in a way that made the room seem very small. “Anyone else would think you were beyond hope.”

_I cannot run,_ she thought. _If I give him any reason to think I am infected with evil, he will hunt me to the ends of the earth._

“You are right. I should not have said such things. Perhaps it is not safe for me to be in the company of other humans until the beast is dead,” she said piously. “I will wait here in seclusion for your return, whereupon, if you have killed the creature, we will wed.”

Such was the tracker’s hubris that he did not notice that she lied about the location of the Volcra’s nest nor that she slipped away into the woods not long after him.

She wandered aimlessly. Finally, she came upon a clearing. She lay her weary bones upon a bed of clover and drank in her first unobscured sight of the night sky in days. Then, she did what she had not done since Ana Kuya had told her of her fate--she prayed.

“Brother Stars,” she whispered to the twinkling constellations, “please help me. I have not spent my time gazing upon you the way I did as a little girl looking through my window, not since I married, yet I have not forgotten how you might guide the lost and lonely. Please, as you have long been one of my only friends, show me the way to my husband.”

The stars seemed to smile in their vastness. Alina, her breath caught with wonder, watched as the North Star dimmed and one to the east of it glinted once, twice, and then held a steady brightness.

Alina leapt to her feet, the exhaustion washed from her brow by the bath of heavens-light, and charged off into the trees to follow her guide. Every day, Alina slept beneath the trees, her skin dappled in sunlight. Every night, the stars rose in their new configuration to Alina’s whispered thanks. One night, Alina broke from the treeline to see Os Alta, the great capital city.

Alina sat down in a huff, certain that her winged husband would not have run off to the largest hub of civilization on this side of the country. Yet, the more she thought on it, she realized that perhaps the stars had brought her to the capital to find someone to help her. Here there were trackers, doctors who might heal his wound, and priests who surely had the same skill at divination as Ana Kuya.

Alina decided to find one of these holy men first. Though they believed in the Saints--which Alina had thought might be false even before she herself was mistaken for one--instead of the oneness of all things, as Alina thought more sensible, a priest might be able to tell her what her next steps should be. Moreover, they might have had experience with creatures like the Volcra before and be able to tell her if he was natural or the product of enchantment.

The largest temple in Os Alta lay behind the palace itself. Being from out of town, moon-haired Alina did not know that common folk were not permitted to enter except on special days. Yet enter she did. 

While Alina gazed in awe at the gilt and splendor of the sanctuary, the priests gazed in awe of her. For the Apparat who led the temple had received an oracle from the eyeless Sybil. This prophetess resides in a cave deep in the earth which her many fires keep sweltering. The floor of the cave contains a crack which reaches so far below the surface that it intersects with the Underworld. From time to time, leaves of oak fly up from this crack carried by some hair-raising wind. It is from these that the Sybil tells her fortunes. She snatches a leaf from one of the hundreds of stacks around her dreaded domicile and casts it upon the fire, whereupon she reads the oracle in the play of shadows on the wall--a language only her empty sight can read. 

Here is the prophecy the Sybil read to the Apparat:

“There lives a princess who wears a veil of snow. Seek her out, for she guards the candle that will drive the dark from the heart of Ravka. Be warned that she is shrewd and will know if your heart is not true. Betray her and her wrath will burn you as well.”

He dispatched priests to scour the Petrazoi and Sikurzoi mountains, the Wandering Isle, and even Fjerda, secretly, in search of this snowy maiden. Now, gazing at Alina, the Apparat began to wonder if he had taken the Sybil’s words too literally. Yet the young woman before him, with her missed hair and dirty homespun did not look much like a princess or even the daughter of some minor tribal chief. Still, the Apparat was not one to take unnecessary risks and quickly decided to welcome her on the chance that she might be the girl he sought. 

He took Alina to a parlor in the Grand Palace so that he might question her in private. Though she had seen a bounty of luxury at her cave and the temple, Alina was still not prepared for the gaudy splendor of the palace. There, the Apparat interrogated her about many things. Alina told him of her time living with the Volcra, insisting upon his tameness and humanity but keeping the truth of her marriage to herself. After her encounter with the tracker and the poor advice of her sisters, Alina was wary of trusting strangers and believed in her own counsel first of all. The more she shared, the more animated the Apparat became.

When she had finished, the Apparat seized her by the arm and dragged her back into the winding hallways. He met her protests with only a scolding to be silent. Before Alina had decided if the chance to run was worth hurting a high-ranking member of the court, they arrived at a massive set of double doors embossed with the royal double eagle. The Apparat rushed past the guards into a private dining room.

The long table was empty except for a regal woman who may have been beautiful if she weren’t desperately hanging onto her youth. Alina looked at the sumptuous spread longingly, for she had grown tired of apples and hard cheese days ago. The Apparat bowed gracefully, pulling Alina, who looked clumsy by comparison, down with him. As the woman gestured for him to speak, the last thoughts of the prophecy--and with them any inclination to help Alina--flew from his head. He said: 

“ _Moi tsarita,_ ” for that is what the Ravkans call their queen, “I have found the girl who injured your son. She came to the temple seeking his whereabouts; though, I know not how she learned he would be in Os Alta.”

Alina lost the thread of the conversation, so overwhelmed was she. They couldn’t be talking about anything other than her Volcra; she had just spent a quarter hour describing the beast to the Apparat. Which meant that he was here! Brother Stars had led her true after all. But her husband, the queen’s son? Alina knew only of Crown Prince Vasily and his younger brother, Nikolai, who had been sent far away to Kerch or the Wandering Isle to study abroad as soon as he was old enough for schooling. Having such a scholar in the royal family was a mark of Ravkan pride, and Alina recalled Ana Kuya chiding her sisters to be more like the studious young prince.

“You are the one who burned my Sobachya?” the queen asked. _Sobachya_. Puppy. Alina supposed he was a sweet as one.

Aloud she agreed and politely began to explain her story again. Before she could do more than open her mouth, the queen ordered her guards to seize Alina. When she struggled, one of them struck her across the face. The Apparat did nothing.

“Please,” Alina begged, earning herself increasingly violent blows as she continued, “the Volcra, you Sobachya, is my husband. I am your daughter-in-law if he truly is your son! I didn’t come here to injure him further, for it was accidental the first time. I came to see to his wound and bring him home.”

“You think you deserve him?” the queen hissed. “Very well, I will set a test before you, and if you succeed, you may see if he will go with you.”

The queen had Alina thrown into a narrow, unfurnished room on an uninhabited hall. Inside, she scattered a large bowlful of uncooked grains and small seeds with instructions to pick up every single piece before dawn if she ever wanted to see her husband again.

Alina assessed her task with despair. With only her bare hands and a small sliver of moon to light her work, it was unlikely that she would complete her task by morning. Nor could she escape to seek out her Volcra--the _prince_ \--herself, for the door was locked and there were innumerable guards patrolling the grounds besides. She feared what would happen if she did not succeed. The queen surely had the power to keep her from her husband’s side. Cursing her weakness, Alina wept even as she plucked seeds from the stone floor, unable to waste even a moment in self-pity.

A sudden gust of air rushed through the open window and buffeted Alina’s hair, disturbing he work. She tied her hair back with a bit of tattered string, but still the wind managed to whip it into her face. Finally, Alina could take no more.

“Little breeze,” she said, “can’t you see I;m busy? I have no time to play with you.”

At once the gust coalesced into a miniature tornado the size of two hand-lengths. “My name is Nadia,” the wind sprite answered. “I am sorry to bother you. I was only trying to cheer you up. You looked so sad.”

There was not much Alina could say to that except to tell the spirit about her predicament. 

The sprite thought for a moment and then laughed with the tinkling of windchimes in a sweet summer breeze. “The queen did not say you couldn’t have help!”

Nadia kept her form as the little tornado and rushed around the room, sucking up grains and seeds while Alina held the bowl for her to spit them into. The moon had only just reached her highest point by the time they were finished. Alina bid the sprite farewell and sent her off with many thanks and a promise of pretty ribbons tied to the branches of her favorite tree.

When the Apparat woke her at dawn--for the queen would not deign to rise that early--he was astonished to find the bowl full and the floors shining as if they had been polished. No matter how he pressed her, she refused to tell him of her new friend’s help. The Apparat and his ilk were left with no choice but to believe it the work of Alina’s own divine power.

The queen found it less miraculous. She had barely given a thought to the girl after leaving her to her impossible task, so sure was she that Alina would fail. Even the idea that Alina might possess the favor of the gods as the Apparat proclaimed was not a comfort to her as it meant Alina could rival her as the most powerful woman in Ravka. Especially, she feared, if the girl managed to confirm her marriage to her Sobachya. For this reason, the queen sought to keep the two apart.

With a smile that creased her once flawless skin, the queen set Alina to another task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been having a lot of fun with working side characters into this story. For example, I was not expecting to be able to include Baghra at all. Yes, Brother Stars is meant to be Tolya. Whoops, Mal turned out to be a lot like Gaston lol.
> 
> In the original tale, Psyche is pregnant through the entirety of her heroic labors (and they are heroic labors in the style of Heracles). I thought long and hard about whether I wanted to include that aspect. I think there's a particular beauty to it. Ultimately, I decided that it doesn't really fit with what I want to tone of this fic to be--which is an exploration of Alina's grit and nerve as opposed to her desire to build a family--and also I don't personally enjoy reading fic about characters having kids unless it is About That and I'm in a certain mood, so didn't want to turn off any readers.


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